


Hamilsin

by adotnon



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Awkward Sex, Blow Jobs, Catholic School, Catholicism, Church Sex, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Horny Teenagers, I'm Going to Hell, M/M, Underage Drinking, borderline blasphemy, catholic jokes, cute boyfriends doing dumb cute things together, first time everything p much, gonna get better though, like lots of awkwardness, little bit of dirty talk, more tags to be added as the story progresses, now with plot, ridiculous fic, speech and debate!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 22:21:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5761078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adotnon/pseuds/adotnon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Does your life need an utterly ridiculous and shameful Hamilton AU? </p>
<p>Ham AU in which everybody attends private, catholic boarding school in DC. John and Alex have been dating for a bit, but are starting to get physical (and serious). Expect loads of lams and hamilgang shenanigans--debate team, protests, sports, doors without locks, international politics, Catholic jokes, bad puns, terrible teen parties and high school drama. </p>
<p>Not to be taken too seriously, which means lots of bad jokes in the prose. </p>
<p>If anyone involved in the actual production of Hamilton finds this, I might actually die of embarrassment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. John Laurens in the Place to Be

**Author's Note:**

> So I started this fic as a bit of a joke and a dare when my roommate and I agreed to write horrible fanfics for each other for the holidays. I got carried away. After some editing to remove our inside jokes, she encouraged me to post this. I've written fic for years but this is my first time posting outside of tumblr. 
> 
> Like the summary says, don't take this fic too seriously. It's just for fun in every way and has allowed me to enjoy writing again. If you have any questions/comments/concerns, please leave them in the comments!

“We’re gonna get caught.”

“No we aren’t, relax.”

“We’re gonna get caught and then expelled.”

“Shh. Stop talking.”

“We’re gonna get caught and then expelled and our parents are going to know why we—ah!”

John cut his sentence short with a quick gasp as Alex reached into his underwear and firmly grabbed him between his legs. His pants and blazer lay on the floor, Catholic school emblem on his tie tossed aside to wrinkle, leaving what little else he had on in a complete mess, appropriately matching the embarrassingly overwhelming flush reaching from his forehead to his chest. He could spit at Alex for staying so cool and collected, unashamedly groping John with that smug grin he could never keep away when he got exactly what he wanted. He jerked at John’s cock with one hand, bringing the other to the waistline of his underwear.

“Is it alright if I take these off?”

Bastard. He looked directly at him, inquiring. He sounded almost polite, as if he didn’t have a possessive hold of John’s dick and he hadn’t already pulled his underwear to John’s thighs to get a full view.

“Oh my god, Alex, if you were going to ask if something’s okay you should have started when you came in the room.”

Alex’s smile returned, more devilish than ever. He _had_ barged in earlier after seeing John’s roommate in the hallway on his way to soccer practice, so he knew he’d have plenty of time. Granted, he’d never expected to get so much as a feel of John _over_ his pants, much less inside them.

He returned to the task—quite literally—at hand, watching his boyfriend’s face twist in ways that Alex knew John wasn’t even aware of as he continued jerking him. He pulled John’s boxers down as far as he could reach while standing, too impatient to have him remove them completely.

Then he got an idea. John released a whimper when his hand stopped, and he looked at Alex, standing face-to-face with him, fully confronted with his Idea Face. While keeping eye contact, Alexander dropped to his knees. John felt as if his stomach hadn’t just dropped, but suddenly disappeared from his body, both excited and anxious.

Alex pulled at his boxers again, and he helped him to remove them. John watched him shift to balance himself on his knees, focusing on something John felt too embarrassed to admit to himself.

Alex drew his face in close, resting it on his hip to look up at him. Goddamn it.

“Is this okay?”

John had not expected this. Alex knew the answer. They both knew the answer. John would say yes to anything with that boy treating him this way—so caring and connected, even in a moment like this.

“Y-ye—” he started to say. But it came out somehow both in a whisper and making his voice crack. If he had any non-vital blood supply left that hadn’t channeled down to his dick, his face would turn red enough to look purple.

“YES!” he called out. He had just wanted to come across strongly, not notify the whole floor that he had Alexander Hamilton on his knees in front of him, ready to suck John Laurens’s dick for the first time.

He did not have much time to think about it, fortunately, because Alex set to work.

Alex didn’t exactly know what to do, a position he found himself in often. He figured that while he had this shot he would make the best of it.

He started by placing soft kisses where he had his head on John’s hip and making his way from there. John looked away, unable to handle the sweetness he took in the action.

He reached the tip of John’s cock and set his eyes with focus. He took a deep breath through his nose and felt his boyfriend shudder around him. He closed his eyes and kept kissing, feeling his way along. John gasped, trying to remain calm. Alex’s kisses became sloppier as he mouthed down his shaft. He licked around the head and John whined.

He found his way and Alex put the head in his mouth. John couldn’t hold back the unhuman sound that slipped out of his throat in response. Under any other circumstances, he would have stopped right then to check himself. But oh god Alex kept moving around him and using his lips and tongue and holy shit John had no self-awareness anymore. He would never admit how often he’d imagined this exact scenario when he had a moment to himself, but of course his own hand could never hold a candle to Alex sucking his dick. And damn he had already started trembling and realized too late how far he’d gotten carried away. Alex moved his hand up to cover what he couldn’t take in his mouth, moving around John’s cock again and fuck it all.

He came, much harder than he ever could on his own. He heard Alex gag when he did and John wanted to die. He wanted the floor to swallow him up and he would accept whatever punishment Hell had in store for him if it meant he could get out of this moment. When his dick started going soft, enough blood rushed to his face to turn him not purple, but nearly blue, which probably had something to do with the greyish tone his skin had taken on in pure shame.

Like any good Catholic boy raised with the fear of God in his heart, he started praying. _Dear God don’t let this be real. I’ll do anything you ask. I’ll volunteer for mass for the rest of the semester-no the year. I’ll become a priest. No-I’ll become a monk and move to Europe somewhere and live in a castle and wear those robes and cut off my hair. I’ll do anything, just please, Lord, please._

“Are you… crossing yourself?”

John opened one eye to find Alex still on his knees. To his horror, he saw him reach up with his hand to wipe something he dare not name from his chin and to make matters even worse Alex wiped off his hand with John’s discarded underwear.

“Um…”

“Do you always pray after you come?”

“No!” He could die. He really could. He started making a list of possibilities for when he would change his name when fleeing the country.

“John, are you okay? You don’t seem like a guy who just got his first blowjob.”

John asked himself why he had to say it out loud. He covered his face with his hands and started shaking his head.

Alexander rose tentatively, his voice calm as ever. “Do you mean that wasn’t your first?”

He shook his head even harder.

He would have continued on that way until his embarrassment allowed him to collapse in on himself if Alex didn’t put his own hands on top of John’s. He spoke gently to him.

“John, John, it’s okay.” He slowly moved both sets of hands from his face, trying to look at him. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

John couldn’t look at him. His head hurt with how far away he tried to push his eyes. After an unbearable moment of silence, he mumbled something.

“What?” Alex leaned in closer, his face drawn up in concern.

“I said I ruined it.” John surprised himself that he didn’t stumble over the words.

He wished he couldn’t see how Alex smiled another one of his signature telling smiles, the one that made John a little lightheaded because Alex only ever used it towards him.

“You didn’t ruin it,” he tried to console him.

“I didn’t mean to come so soon.”

Alex laughed, not a hearty laugh or nervous giggle, but a soft, intimate laugh. And it worked, dammit. John risked looking at him and wished he hadn’t. He looked too caring, too sweet for someone who had just choked on a dick, moments ago.

“John, it’s okay,” he tried to reassure him. He put his hands on either side of his face.

John only whined in disagreement.

“It just means,” Alex started slowly, “you need more practice. I’d say as much of it as possible.”

One person could not handle this much embarrassment in such a short amount of time.

* * *

The couple had settled down after that, John redressing and Alex talking about the upcoming debate meet. He could talk endlessly, so debate suited him. Thankfully for him, John never seemed to tire of his zeal for action and love of words, as long as Alex made time for his love of other things. He also served as junior editor for the school paper, _The Federalist_ , and acted as treasury for student government. John had no idea how he did it all, _and_ maintained some of the highest grades in his class. John preferred to center his passion, already an aspiring social activist for civil rights and environmental restoration. 

After dinner with friends, they said their goodnights and went back to their rooms.

* * *

John couldn’t sleep. He turned to his roommate.

“Hey, Herc.”

“Man I’m trying to sleep. I’ve got early training in the morning.” Hercules Mulligan sounded more than a bit disgruntled.

“Oh. Uh, sorry to bother you.”

His roommate sighed. “S’alright. What’s up?”

“Have you… Have you ever gotten a blowjob?”

“Nah, man. Not yet.”

John considered this. “Really? Not even with that girl from over the summer?” he asked.

“No. She was up for a lot, but not that. Weird huh?”

“Oh. Yeah. Weird.” He didn’t know what else to say. He heard Herc roll over in his bed.

“Why are you asking all of a sudden?” Hercules asked him.

“What? Oh, um…” John had not thought this plan through. “I uh…kinda got my first one,” he mumbled.

“What’d you say?”

Of course he’d have to repeat it.

“I said,” he took a deep breath, forcing his voice to clarity “I got my first one.”

Herc shot to attention. “What? The fuck, man, when did this happen? 

John asked himself over and over why he had decided to do this. Even in the dark, he could see the wall right in front of his bed where Alex had Done the Deed. He looked away. “Recently,” he squeaked.

“Dude, how was it?”

“Weird.”

 

* * *

“Hey, Aaron.”

“Alex, it’s the middle of the night. I’m trying to sleep for once.”

“Yeah okay, just one quick question.”

Aaron sighed, knowing he would have to answer whatever Alex wanted before he could sleep. “What is it?”

“Have you ever gone down on anybody?”

“GOODNIGHT, ALEXANDER.”

* * *

Alex went to debate practice the next day. He practiced with some unwilling teammates who didn’t exactly want to go against him because he didn’t know the significance of a “practice” debate. He already had an advantage on knowing current events inside out from working on the paper. If only he could control his energy and pay closer attention to the rules, he would sweep every meet. He had wanted to campaign for a tournament-style debate rather than a points system, but everybody else knew better than to oppose the National Speech and Debate Association. The team president, John Adams, would never let him do anything like that anyway. Nobody knew how he became president, but he did. He hated Alex, and Alex hated him, which made their practice debates a calling for everyone to watch.

When practiced ended, he left in a mental frenzy of potential rebuttals and clever insults, like always. But it all faded away when he saw John waiting for him in the hallway, smiling. He made his way straight to him.

“Hey, John!” he couldn’t stop himself from smiling around him, stomach aflutter with the embarrassing inevitable.

“Hey, Alex. How was practice?”

“Eh, same as always. Nobody wants to give it their all until the meet. I keep trying to tell them that their best is only going to get better if they practice with it.”

They both started walking towards the dorms.

“But isn’t that good for you at least? I mean it sounds like you’ll have a lot better conditioning.” John had a genuine interest and curiosity in everything Alex did 

“True, but I don’t know what it’ll be like against a worthy opponent.”

John had to laugh. “A worthy opponent?” He had his own ways of bringing Alex back out of his concentration.

“Well, you know what I mean,” A brief pause. “Adams was talking about joining up to practice with the girls’ school. I think it’d be a good opportunity to get some fresh competition. Their president is supposed to be incredible.”

“You sound like you’re strategizing for battle. Take it easy.”

Alex knew what he meant. “I’m sorry. How are you?” His tone changed completely, becoming lighter and less distant. 

“I’m fine. I finished the first draft of my essay for history while you were at practice, so I’m glad to have that done.”

“What are you writing about?”

“The influence of slave labor in building colonial America. We were supposed to research something that we haven’t discussed in class. It’s not even mentioned in our history books.”

“Sounds like a fascinating topic.” Alexander found nearly any topic “fascinating.” 

They had almost reached their dorm building. Alex dug around in a side pocket of his backpack for his ID. John looked around to make sure that nobody else could hear them. 

“So, uh, I was thinking about yesterday...” he trailed off, waiting for Alex’s reply to see how to continue.

“Oh?” Alex realized what he meant and stopped searching for his ID. “Oooooh.”

John blushed hysterically. “Yeah. Again, I’m sorry about that.” His voice dropped in volume.

“John, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize.”

“I still feel bad about it.”

Alex stopped walking. John went a few more paces before he noticed.

“Hey,” Alex said. He walked up and took his hand. “Don’t worry about it. It was both of our first times. It’s supposed to be weird, right?”

John finally looked at him. “Yeah I guess.”

“And now we have that out of the way.” John thought it a strange thing to say, but he had to agree.

“Yeah, about that.” He made sure to keep his eyes on Alex’s. “I didn’t realize until later that I, uh, didn’t even offer to…return the favor.”

Alex’s face went from sweetly caring boyfriend to pleasantly shocked beyond belief the moment the idea left John’s lips.

John kept talking. “Herc is at study group. He’ll be away for a while, if you want to come up with me.”

Alex couldn’t speak. It took a hell of a lot to make him speechless, but offers of sexual favors from his boyfriend managed to do the trick. He nodded, slowly, intently. John grinned at him in a way he had never seen before and his heart started pounding. He felt hot all over, stiflingly so. John tugged on his hands, leading him into the building. That shockingly smooth bastard had his ID in his pocket, ready to swipe them in. They managed to avoid running into anybody else in the lobby or on the stairs—not that they meant to keep their relationship secret necessarily, but they didn’t need to draw any unwanted attention, at least not yet.

They got all the way to John’s room before they started going at it. As soon as they had closed the door they practically jumped on one another, completely graceless, fervent tongues and roaming hands. John had the basic sense to pull away and put a chair against the door. Due to the famous Open Door Policy of The Father Who Founded Us, no doors in the dorms had locks, for exactly the reason John and Alex needed one—another careful measure of preventing promiscuity in the Catholic church. John led them to the bed, the only convenient sitting place for two other than the floor.

For a while they just made out, albeit with a thoroughly dedicated intensity. John used the time to collect himself and think this through. Yes. Yes of course he wanted to do this. He committed himself to reach out between them and plant his hand on Alex’s crotch.

Holy shit. Getting so hard so quickly had to hurt. But John had to hand it to him, when Alex did something, he never half-assed it. Unsure of what to do with his hand, he tried just rubbing it around a little. Alex responded involuntarily, hips rocking up into the motion. Damn.

John broke their mouths apart “Wait, wait. Let’s try this…” Alex watched with ravenous anticipation as he moved himself around and placed himself practically in Alex’s lap. “Lift yourself up a little,” he told him. He hoped he sounded like he knew what to do. When Alex obliged, he slid one leg under him so that their hips aligned. He unceremoniously started grinding against him, drawing a moan from Alex. This took John by surprise, but he found it a good sign.

Alex had completely given in at this point. He just stayed along for the ride, up for anything and loving it all the way. He tried to move with John, the two of them starting out a little clunky but getting synced together eventually, just grinding for a while.

This felt fucking fantastic. Just good vibes, all the way. John had to make sure he didn’t get carried away—he would _never_ get over the humiliation of repeating yesterday’s disaster, so he could not let it happen. He remembered what he meant to do and slowed down his hips gradually. Alex seemed to get the hint because he looked at John with a confused glance. John tried to move away, a difficult task considering their entangled legs. When he clambered out, he looked at his boyfriend again. That look of need sent shivers down his spine and set his toes a-tingling.

Somehow, Alex seemed to know what to do. He worked off his blazer and threw it to the floor, then laid back on his elbows as John did the same to his own uniform jacket. John started leaning in over him.

“Spread your legs some,” he told him as a necessary fact.

“Absolutely.” Alex hastily acquiesced. John crawled up between his legs and untucked his shirt, unbuttoning it starting from the bottom. Alex helped him out by pulling off his tie and unbuttoning from the top. Once they had his shirt removed John started working at his pants, unbuckling his belt carefully, delicately, as if he wanted to double-check his actions. He slid them down his legs, crawling to the bottom of the bed, before realizing that Alex still had his shoes on. Oh. He got rid of each and they made an awkward clunky sound when hitting the floor. The pants soon followed, leaving Alex laying back on the bed in only his boxers, which in no way allowed any modesty to cover his erection. He looked so ready, so eager. From the edge of the bed, John could hardly take it all in, which in part prompted his next move 

“This would probably work best if you sat on the edge of the bed here,” he suggested. 

“Oh, uh, okay.” As he crawled off the bed onto the floor, Alex scooted up to the edge and moved his feet to the floor, where John knelt in between his legs.

They locked eyes, both of them slightly nodding, both unaware of doing so. John took a possessive hold of the waistline of Alex’s boxers and tugged, Alex helping him take them off completely. 

Having one himself, John thought he might know how it would feel to come face-to-dick with another guy’s junk. He did not.

Fuck.

“Something wrong?” Alex looked down at him staring at his dick. John hadn’t realized that he’d cursed out loud.

“Nope,” he said, not adverting his gaze. He’d seen a lot of dicks. He’d watched plenty of porn in his seventeen years and he had imagined this exact scenario countless times. Reality measured up so differently than his fantasies. Another person had actually become involved, a very real person, for whom John had feelings (hormone-driven crushes on porn stars did not count).

He figured he’d better make it count. Without any further hesitation, he leaned in and wrapped his lips around the tip of Alex’s cock. In hindsight, should have known better than to copy what he’d seen in porn, but he hadn’t thought too much about the best approach.

“ShiiiiIIIIITTT…” Not a sexy curse, not a graceful curse, not a dramatic moaning curse, not even a blessedly quick curse of surprise. Alex’s instincts had spoken out for him, and he sounded like he’d pondered something while uttering the word.

_What the fuck_. He thought to himself. _Now you’ve ruined it_.

John’s instincts made him laugh in response—with his mouth still wrapped around Alex’s dick. This all could have started so much better. He had wanted this to go so much better.

By some miracle, that laugh sent shivers through Alex’s dick to his whole body. He gasped; it felt great. John took it as a hint and the initial moment passed. He pushed further down along Alex, who moaned ever so slightly at the sensation. He braced himself by putting his hands on the bed. John slowly bobbed his head over the first couple of inches and he moaned some more. As he worked more of Alex into his mouth, John brought up his hand to help him out. He stroked and twisted gently, getting to know the feel of his boyfriend’s meat wand.

They worked into a slow rhythm. Alex simply could not sit still. He tried desperately to keep his hip rolls small so as not to choke and kill John. That would make for an unpleasant story to tell the administration.  At a point, he pulled off.

“Alex?”

“Yeah?” his voice cracked when trying to form coherent words.

“It’s okay if you want to move. I think I can take it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’ll let you know if it’s a problem.”

“Okay.” Alex nodded.

He allowed himself to roll the smallest bit deeper into John’s mouth. He craved even more, but he wanted to make this last. Besides his breathy moans and forced breathing and occasional grunting, he stayed uncharacteristically silent. John noticed this and tucked the notion away somewhere in the back of his mind. If he ever needed it, he now knew how to shut him up.

As he got more comfortable, he took more and more, trying to remember to breathe. His jaw showed the first hint of an ache, so he started speeding up some, which led Alex to move faster as well. Before long, they really went to town, John using his hand and mouth for full coverage and Alex bending over him, losing his hands in his thick hair. As they got faster and faster, he made sounds he didn’t even know about, and they drove John mad with affection and want.

When Alex got close he pulled out quickly. John didn’t even feel stupid with his patiently awaiting mouth in the open, now empty.

“John, I’m gonna come,” he whined, always straight to the point.

“Okay,” he nodded. “You can finish in my mouth.”

He didn’t need any more prompting as he pushed back in, taking John slightly by surprise. It only took him one, two, three, four more bobs of his head before he felt Alex all but heave, as close to him as he could get. Once or twice out of curiosity, and once or twice by accident, he’d tasted his own come after getting himself off. Again, his own experience could not compare to the real event of somebody spilling a load in his mouth. He swallowed by instinct when he felt it hit the back of his throat, unintentionally pulling Alex in farther. By the time he had registered everything and the shock had passed, Alex had finished finishing, left a sweat-sticky, gasping mess.

“Oh my god,” he started. “That was incredible. Unbelievable. Tremendous!”

John had pulled off. “Tremendous?”

“Yes! Tremendous!”

He smiled. “Only you would use a word like that to describe what we just did.”

Alex laughed. He got down off the bed and squatted right in front of John, taking his face in his hands like he had the day before, his face full of bliss.

“Thank you.”

John rolled his eyes, if only for a reason to escape his stare. “It wasn’t a favor. I was glad to do it.”

“Well definitely let me know if you ever want to do it again.”

John wished he had saved his eye roll. Instead, he leaned in, grabbing Alexander’s face this time and kissed him.

“Sure thing." 

Alex insisted on reciprocating, and even though John had meant this as his turn, he couldn’t deny how badly he wanted to get off. He settled halfway for a handjob, leagues better than one he could have given himself.

 

* * *

They joined their friends for dinner that night. John felt sure that everybody in the whole dining hall could tell what they’d done that afternoon. But Alex kept conversation going easily. Well, one of them had to do it. He had busied himself with explaining to everyone the standing positions for opposing schools that The Father Who Founded Us would face in debate in the next meet. He could highlight each team’s officers and outstanding competitors. He followed local debate standings like other men followed professional sports—all the same to him.

Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette, or Laf to his friends, scrolled through something on his phone while Herc stared down Alex, absentmindedly stabbing his fork in his meal over and over again, poor Alex oblivious to his disinterest. John kept trying to convince himself that the soup today just naturally tasted saltier than normal—what a weird happenstance. But ah yes, he didn’t want to think about that right now. But anything else seemed dull up against prospective sex, especially the comparisons of DC debate standings.

On one of the courteous glances that Laf shot up from his phone, he looked beyond John and Alex and his eyes grew wide in horror. He swore in French. 

The boys all followed his gaze and said something to the same extent. Laf’s roommate made his way towards them from across the dining hall. They all put their heads down, hoping he would pass them, knowing he wouldn’t.

“Yoo-hoo!” He called and waved. Seriously, who fucking says that? 

“Hey George” Laf had the courtesy to return half-assedly. He didn’t have much else to offer. Not only did the boys have the unfortunate coincidence to carry legacy names such as “Hercules Mulligan,” or “Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette,” but having names of that sort meant attending school with other kids of the same types of families that find it admirable. Despite growing up in the hands of nannies and boarding schools, some of those children still ended up as unbearably pretentious and with the same lack of self-awareness of their parents—children like George William Frederick III. An exchange student from London, he claimed a distant relation to the throne. His international status had immediately qualified him for housing with other students from overseas. And somebody in charge of housing found it wise to pair together the English aristocrat with the French liberalist.

“Thank goodness I’ve spotted you!” George exclaimed in his preposterous accent that fluctuated in strength and origin. “I do so hate eating alone, don’t you?”

Nobody said anything. An awkward moment passed in which John decided definitely to add more pepper to his soup to cancel out the saltiness. In the back of his mind surfaced an article he’d once read late at night in a mess of shady incognito tabs about what to eat and what not to eat in order to affect body chemistry and its taste—another strange thought to randomly spring up. Even though he tried to push it back, he made a mental note to try the pineapple chunks at breakfast the next morning.

During this entire train of thought, nobody else had said a word besides George, who hadn’t stopped talking. Alex stared fixedly at his plate, visibly straining to remain silent—if even Alexander knew that he had better stay quiet rather than argue with someone, then nobody else wanted to test it. Not that he hadn’t tried to argue with George before, but eventually his friends had _strongly encouraged_ him that he shouldn’t even bother because he couldn’t fix stupid.

John noticed his aggravation and tried to lighten him up some by tapping his foot against Alex’s leg under the table hearteningly. It seemed to work, because not only did he snap out of his plans to verbally assassinate George, but Alex responded by tapping him back, thus beginning an aggressive game of footsie.

Clear rules: make your boyfriend as frustrated as you can and don’t get caught.

It went clumsily since they had both sat on the same side of the table. Gentle strokes and nudges soon progressed into an all-out battle of landing hits on the other, without leaning over far enough to attract attention, of course.

Alex had set himself to win. Nobody beat Alexander Hamilton, especially at footsie. He needed to out-charm his boyfriend while outlasting his blows. Well, actually, he wouldn’t mind taking a few more blows from John…

He lost track of himself and kicked Herc across from him. 

“The fuck, man?” He interrupted George in the middle of a speech none of them had even given an ear to—probably about yachts or the differences in names for things in the States and the UK or something equally enthralling. 

“Uh…” John loved all the different sides of Alex, but he probably liked flustered Alex the best. It took everything he had to keep from smirking at him.

“Whatever,” Hercules responded when he didn’t say anything else, “I’m done anyway.” He picked up his tray to leave and the rest of his friends followed suit with gratitude for a reason to leave. They left George on his own, wondering how they could not need him.

“I’m going to the library,” Alex stated once they had left the dining hall. “Would anyone like to go with me?” he looked intently at John while the other two happened to be facing other directions.

“No thanks, I’ve already been today” Herc told them. 

“I have a documentary to watch for class,” said Laf. 

“John?” Alex asked, his eyebrows raised in either expectant wait or suggestive preposition.

“Sure. I’ll go with you.”

“See you later, John,” Herc said, completely oblivious.

“Au revoir mis amis,” Laf already had his phone out again, not noticing anything.

 Alex and John took off in the other direction.


	2. Let Me Spell Out my Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear God. Fluff. Debate drama intensifies. Teenage drinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's going to hell?   
> It's me. And anyone else who reads this.

“So where are we actually going?” John asked once they’d left earshot of their other friends.

“Well as great as it sounds to feel you up alongside some books, I don’t know that I’m ready to risk that yet.”

“Yet?”

“We’ll see later on.”

John had to smile to himself, dammit.

It didn’t take him long to realize that Alex’s path had them headed straight for the chapel.

“Okay, where are we going? For real?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Alex had just a hint of playfulness in his tone.

“Nuh-uh. No way. We are not hooking up in the fucking chapel.”

“Such a mouth, John, and when referring to a place of our Lord. What am I to do with you?”

“I’m pretty sure you get a one-way ticket to Hell if you mess around in a church.”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

By this point they’d reached the front of the impressively-sized chapel on campus and stood just below the steps leading up to the entrance. John pursed his lips, looking up at the carved stone archways around the doors and the rose window. If not for the cover of nighttime, he would have fallen in the mammoth shadow of the building.

“What if we get caught?”

“Nobody’s there at night, especially in the middle of the week. And besides, there are a ton of hidden nooks and crannies everywhere.”

John sighed, giving in to definitely the worst idea he had ever agreed to. However, he didn’t take much convincing in all honesty. He just couldn’t claim responsibility for the very notion of canoodling inside a church.Alex took his hand and they walked through one of the great arched doors together, not even having to bother with a lock. None of the lights remained lit, giving the main hall an eerie dark appearance.

The sounds of sin made a finer chorus than that of any choir of a sanctified basilica. Alex had John pressed up against a stone wall under a stained glass piece of The Virgin, lips on his neck and hands searching over his sides. He raised his thigh between John’s legs, making him close his mouth around a moan, trying to hold it in. He gave up and released something akin to a high-pitched sigh.

“Jesus, where did you learn all this?” he asked.

“Are you talking to me or Our Lord and Savior?” Alex teased into John’s neck.

Out of sight, John rolled his eyes. “I don’t think Jesus ever grinded against anybody in a church.”

“We don’t know that for sure.”

“Considering that there weren’t even churches during his day, I’m gonna assume it’s a safe bet.”

“You make a fair point, John,” Alex responded, never having left John’s neck, rubbing against him to get him hard while making sure to give him a more than noticeable hickey. The thought of John getting frustrated because his collar didn’t reach up high enough to cover it left him immensely satisfied.

“You’re not even going to argue? That seems so unlike you.”

Alex chuckled against his skin. “Believe it or not, there are some things more important to me than discourse.”

Too easy. “Like  _ Inter _ course?”

“Exactly.”

_ Shit _ thought John as Alex moved to suck at the junction of his neck and shoulder on his other side. Hell yeah, he wanted to have sex with Alexander Hamilton, but fantasizing about it in the shower and facing the actual prospect brought to mind some certain  _ technicalities _ that he’d always ignored while jerking off.

Then Alex grabbed his dick through his pants and any thoughts of technicalities flew out the window. It would happen eventually—sooner rather than later, given his choice—and they’d deal with it then. But for now he wanted to keep it tamer than full-on nudity and gay sex in a pew, which seemed as enthralling as it did perverse, but not likely to make for a worthy first-time experience.

“John, are you okay?”

He snapped out of his own thoughts. “What? Oh, yeah. Keep going.”

He must have sounded confident enough to convince Alex to do exactly that as he stuck his hand in John’s pants. John felt himself straining and promised to make this better than yesterday.

If somebody caught them, that meant the end of everything they knew—Alex would lose his scholarship and go back into the foster system, John’s father would pull him out of school and probably send him to some sort of anti-gay conversion program while he looked for the most reputable school on the planet to make sure this didn’t happen ever again, and the two would likely lose contact through force of others. Even though they both knew this, their youth or confidence or hormones or  _ something _ pushed them past the point of caring.

Alex blew him right there, in the lower leg of the cross of the chapel, on his knees with far more conviction than when he kneeled to pray during mass. He even swallowed, taking it like a champ and John started wondering if he  _ liked _ doing this. Knowing him, he probably got off on some sort of power trip since John basically fell under his complete will. Strangely enough, John found himself able to enjoy that idea. So for the second time that day, he returned the favor. He savored the complete vulnerability in Alex when he touched him just right or moved exactly a certain way. And yeah, he could see how somebody might like this, getting somebody else off, especially somebody who made him feel like the silly protagonist of a dumb rom com.

Afterwards, they sat next to each other against the wall, held hands, and casually leaned into one another.

After a few relaxed, silent minutes Alex spoke up.

“Two in one day. I could get used to this.”

John nudged him hard in the ribs. “Don’t count on it.”

 

* * *

Over the next few weeks, they fooled around much more. The two exchanged plenty of texts reading “my roommate’s not home ;),” which had turned into a regular code instead of an ironic joke. They still took all necessary precautions, however. The school had the chapel cleaned on Thursday nights, so that meant no frolicking in the House of the Lord then. Both felt sure that their friends didn’t know yet, but they planned on telling them soon. They tried to stay sneaky—a challenging feat in the heat of the moment when only desperation played on their minds. Much like the classic saying, “when you gotta go, you gotta go,” when they had to go at it, they had to go at it. Even still, Alex had enough confidence in their RA, a senior named George Washington, would let them get away with breaking this rule. He prioritized his relationships with his classmates over strict rules, and could bend the rules for the right reason. Every single student who had met him liked him.  

They didn’t try anything beyond oral at that point, but knew that all their sexy shenanigans would lead farther someday. Each of them, on their own and unbeknownst to the other, had made proper purchases to accommodate the needs of that day, just in case.

Other than getting thoroughly acquainted with each other’s junk, they played out the rest of the normal high school couple routine. They walked to classes together and found secluded spots to hang out and talk about their days and what they did. They texted late into the night about dumb shit. They tried new shows together on Netflix, went out for coffee together, and would go to different spots in the city when not in class.

 

* * *

One morning in early October, John waited beside Alex’s locker, holding a note and rolling his eyes as soon as he caught sight of his boyfriend.

“What?” Alex managed to look dramatically, falsely libeled.

“There’s such a thing as too much, you know,” John chided.

Alex turned to the chaotic pile of books and papers in his locker. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

John sighed. Alex privately thanked God-or-Any-Powers-that-Be for letting him have a boyfriend like this.

“You’re not gonna make me read it, are you?”

“Considering that I don’t even know what ‘it’ is, I don’t think I can make you do anything.”

Without any further pageantry, John picked up the note. “‘Dear John’—first of all this isn’t a Nicolas Sparks novel.”

Alex shrugged, almost completely inside his locker to get his pre-calc notebook. His shoulder hit a hinge on the door. He made an undignified squawk, and John laughed before he kept on reading.

“‘With this morning’s prayers, please know that I will dedicate my silent devotion to you.  Although I’d probably find my mind on you anyway, as I tend to do more and more often, without complaint or intention to stop.’ Alex,  _ really _ ?” Even if he had managed to suppress the smile from his face, he couldn’t stop it from leaking into his voice.

 

* * *

Just down the hall, Herc, Laf, and Aaron watched in unspoken disgust. For them, the love train had long derailed into the love train wreck, in the way that they couldn’t stop watching, even if they wanted to.

“When I woke up to go take a piss in the middle of the night last night, they were still texting,” Herc told them. “How the hell are they so energetic?”

“As we say in France, love is energy in its purest form.”

“I’m at least one-hundred-and-ten percent sure that that’s a fresh pile of French bullshit you just made up, Laf.” Said Aaron. “Besides, Alex doesn’t need to sleep. I’ve shared a room with him for two years now and I swear he’s not human.”  

“Do you think they’ve done it yet?” Laf wondered aloud.

“Not yet, but they’ve been doing  _ something _ ,” answered Herc just as Aaron replied “I don’t know. I don’t want to know. I don’t care.”

“You’re the ones who live with them. How am I supposed to know what’s going on if it’s not going on where I live?”

“What’s not going on where we live?” a heavily-accented voice chimed in.

Laf hung his head, pinched the bridge of his nose, and swore under his breath.

“Laf, whatever are you doing?” George asked, staring at him with a disturbing curiosity.

He looked his roommate dead-on with exasperation. “Praying.”

“Oh. Well good for you.” He sounded skeptical, but in the way that only nauseatingly rich people have mastered. “Anyhow, what were we talking about?”

Instead of answering, the other three just turned to John and Alex down away, flirting so conspicuously that they set off the official NSA Gaydar.

“Ah, yes. Them.” George sounded bored in the kind of way that made somebody want to punch him.

“You know about them?” Aaron asked.

“Everyone knows about them,” he stated. “Everyone has known about them for so long that they don’t care anymore.”

“School only started like, five weeks ago,” Herc said skeptically.

“Precisely,” concluded George. “Have you seen this Vine of the baby corgis?”

“We get it, George. You’re English,” his roommate sighed.

But still, they had not seen the video. Even offered by someone like George, nobody could resist damn cute corgi puppies doing stuff on the Internet.

 

* * *

“I don’t know how to read your closing phonetically, but you wrote ‘urs 5ever, A.H.’ with little hearts instead of periods between your initials.” John looked down at Alex, still squatting down trying to patch up his locker organization, raising his eyebrows at him in playful judgment from over the top of the letter.

“What?” he asked in response again, daring to like some kind of normal person or something.

“You’re too much.” John smiled and shook his head.

“So I’m guessing that that means you don’t want to make plans for this weekend?”

“That all depends what you mean by plans.”

Excitement crept into Alex’s voice with a childish spirit. “Well I believe you said we could start with the museums this week…”

“Oh? And where do you want to start?”

“I just thought we’d make our way around the Mall.”

“That means American History is first.”

Alex smiled broadly enough to hurt his facial muscles.

“Sunday, right?”

“Yeah. There’s practice on Saturday.”

“We can go to Herc’s on Saturday night and then do the museum on Sunday.”

Somehow, Alex smiled more. John worried just a little bit.

“Sounds perfect.”  

 

* * *

Alex showed up before anybody else for the first joint practice between The Father Who Founded Us and its sister school, Saint Scholastica. Of course, he didn’t have the key to unlock the building early on a Saturday. The school only gave that key to one student—the team president, when he requested it and got permission. Alexander was not the team president.

John had not woken up yet, probably on account of how late they’d stayed up texting the night before, so he didn’t have that option. Instead he found it best to go ahead and prep for the practice. The nerd went through the multiple news pieces on his phone while waiting for ten o’clock to arrive.

Naturally, before the scheduled meeting time, a couple more students showed up early.

“Well, well, Alexander Hamilton in the flesh,” Thomas Jefferson’s perfectly nauseating voice announced to nobody in particular. “Trying to make a good impression by showing up pathetically early?”

“I’m sorry—actually no. I’m not sorry. I don’t care. But my point is, if arriving early makes me pathetic, what are you doing here?”

Thomas didn’t have a logical response, so he kept his mouth shut for once, sporting an angry pout. His friend James seemed both offended by and impressed with the response, giving him the appearance of a surprised and confused sea lion pursing its lips, only more alert. He coughed into his fist.

“I see that quick wit of yours needs some time to warm up in the morning.”

Thomas didn’t say anything, only glared. Alex met his glare with raised intensity. James coughed again. They didn’t even notice the team officers arrive.

“What on God’s green earth are you up to now?” John Adams, the school’s incarnation of Satan himself, demanded, more than tired of their antics.

They both mumbled excuses while he went to unlock the door, passing between the two of them and rolling his eyes.

“You don’t even have to be here yet, you know. The officers just wanted to make it in case the girls showed up early.” Adams led them into the building and down the hall.

“Well we always want to make a good impression on the ladies, don’t we?” Thomas asked with a grin showcasing what he called his signature look of “southern charm and hospitality.” Alex thought it made him look like a skeevy salesman circa 1974.

“Does that mean you and Alex went in together on this?”

Both Thomas and Alexander made expressions of pure, unadulterated disgust at the suggestion.

Adams unlocked the door to the debate room—a large, rather antiquated lecture-style classroom with ascending seating facing an open floor. Adams put his book bag on a table on the first level of seating then turned to them both.

“I might as well tell you what I was thinking of doing since I have the two of you together. And James.” He looked past the two to nod at James, who curtly nodded back before coughing.

Neither of them liked the confrontational tone he’d taken on, one which he only reserved for delivering news that nobody wanted to hear.

Sure that he had their attention, he continued. “I want both of you on a team.”

Alex felt the color drain from his face quicker than his jaw dropped.

“Whaaaaaaaaat?” Thomas drew out much longer than needed, with much more sass than needed.

Adams, expecting this kind of response kept talking. “You’re upperclassmen now and you’re both good debaters, so you can choose whether you want to do policy or public forum.”

“Why?” Alex blurted out.

“Excuse me?” Adams turned his full attention to him.

“Why?” he insisted again.

“You’re teammates. We debate, not fight. I was thinking that if next year the two of you want to lead the team as seniors you can’t have this immature…whatever it is between the two of you.”

“Debate is scholarly fighting!” Alex exclaimed quickly.

Thomas looked at him. “Once again, you’re facing the wrong issue here.” He turned back to the president. “With all due respect, John, I honestly think this is  _ not _ a good idea.”

Alex pressed his lips together, his brow furrowed. “I have to agree. And that’s probably the only thing that I’ve  _ ever _ agreed with Thomas on. Like, ever. In my whole life.”

“WE GET IT, ALEXANDER.” 

Adams pressed on as if he hadn’t heard them. “If you start practicing now, you should be ready for the first round robin in November. Talk to some of the other teams to help you if you need it; I’m sure they’d be glad.”

Alex spoke up this time. “If you really want the team to do well, shouldn’t we focus on our individual events?”

“I’m not saying you have to stop working on your individuals.”

“Well then what are we going to do for competitions?” Thomas snapped.

“You’ll be paired up until you can prove that you can work together. Now I have to go unlock the practice classrooms.” John dropped out of the conversation and walked away, the issue clearly not weighing on his conscience.

“Shit” Both Alex and Thomas said, watching after him in disbelief.

“This is a terrible idea,” said Alex.

“I will say what’s a terrible idea or not,” Thomas sassed back. “This is an astonishingly, mind-blowingly, new kind of stupid terrible idea.”

“He’s herrendous.” 

“This is why he’s a horrible leader—well, one of the reasons why.”

“Well I’m not going to do it.”

“And you think I am?”

James came between the two of them. “You’re going to have to figure something out.”

“I’m going to have to ‘figure out’ how to get Alexander off the team.”

A knock at the door interrupted them.

“Hello?” inquired a voice definitely not belonging to any of the boys on the team, much less any of the boys in the school.

They all three turned to see a very poised young woman at the doorway.

“Is this the debate room?” she asked, her voice cool and saturated with a confident grace. “I’m Angelica Schuyler, from the team at St. Scholastica; I’ve been talking to John Adams about a combined practice here today. I wanted to show up early so that I could be here when all of my girls arrive.”

One of the senior officers went to get Adams while the others greeted her.

“Who’d she say she is?” Thomas asked.

Alex almost scoffed. “Angelica Schuyler. Open your ears instead of your mouth for once. Senior at St. Scholastica and president of their team.”

“How did I never notice her?”

“That’s what you miss when you spend a semester studying in France.”

“What can I say? Elle est super bonne.”

“She’s amazing, is what she is. She’s a debate  _ god _ . She’s finaled at state every single year in high school and made it to Nationals as a  _ sophomore _ . She broke semis last year, just missing the cut for finals. You can guess what her goals are this season.”

“Bonne et intelligente.”

Alex rolled his eyes, nearly gagging. “‘Intelligente’ enough to stay away from you.” 

Adams came back to welcome Angelica. Before long, the rest of both teams arrived. After a formal introduction from both teams of officers, everyone broke up into groups for practice. Alex made a beeline for Angelica and gladly waited for her to wrap up a conversation with some of her teammates.

“Hello, Miss Schuyler—”

“You can call me Angelica.”

“Wonderful. Angelica, I would like to say that I very much admire everything you’ve done. You’re incredible, really, and I’m sure not just in debate.”

She smiled at him politely. “Thank you…”

“Alexander. Alexander Hamilton. But everyone calls me Alex.”

“Well, thank you, Alex.”

“Of course. You’re very welcome. I would be honored if you’d allow me to practice with you at some point today.”

“Right now I’d like to supervise since it’s our first practice together. But later this afternoon, I’d be glad to.”

Alex beamed at her but before he could say anything else, Adams interrupted.

“Actually, Angelica, Alex here has to practice with his new doubles partner.”

He turned to Adams with a thousand smartass replies about what he’d rather do, restrained only out of respect for Angelica.

“Isn’t that right, Alex?” he asked smugly.

Alex’s mouth twitched ever so slightly as he forced himself to smile, with a rather disturbing result. Both Adams and Angelica leaned away from him, taken aback.

“Yep. Gotta practice with… Thomas. Thomas Jefferson. Sure thing. I’ll get on that.” He looked as dead on the outside as he felt on the inside.

 

* * *

 

 

So he did practice with Thomas. Or at least he tried. But he lost his patience quickly. They disagreed on every topic they had to support or defend together, so they couldn’t even pick a side to take without one of them accusing the other of unfair bias. When Adams stopped in to check on them, he told them to choose sides based on a coin toss. Even then, one of them would make a strong argument while the other made witty insults against him.

After a few hours, the president let them leave early, fed up with them both. Alex went back to his room to work on homework. John came by and for some reason Aaron left, talking about going to catch a movie with some friends or something. Alex made a lame joke about how he didn’t have any friends.

He and John talked and studied for a while, talking about classes and their work loads. But even before either of them got close to finishing their work, they started making out. So much more interesting than studying. They’d already laid down on the bed with John rolling his hips up against Alex when both of their phones went off with a message from Laf. Cursing, they collected themselves and tried to look presentable before grabbing their overnight bags and meeting him outside. If they needed an excuse for looking any bit disheveled or flushed, they could always say that they had to rush to get their shit together. Either that or they’d just gotten back from the gym, even if they never worked out, and even if only athletes could use the gym on weekends. Worth a shot if anyone asked.

They walked to where they could see Laf’s car waiting on the curb.

“Get in, losers, we are going shopping.”

“Oh God,” John said as Alex cringed.

“You know, Laf,  _ Mean Girls _ is definitely a thing in America. And quotes from  _ Mean Girls _ is also a thing, but it’s mostly a thing for middle school girls.” Alex told him from the passenger seat after he and John got into the car.

“Are you saying it’s not our ‘thing?’”

“Exactly.”

“But why not?”

“It’s just…not.”

“But why? Are you saying you don’t like the film  _ Mean Girls _ ?”

“What? I just—”

“Yeah Alex, do you not like  _ Mean Girls _ ?” John piped in from the back seat, wearing a shit-eating grin as he teased his boyfriend.

“That’s not what I’m saying!”

“Then what are you saying?” John asked, trying to stop himself from downright giggling at Alex’s frustration.

“I’m saying that it’s a thing but not a thing that we do. Like… I don’t know. Wearing scarves or some shit.”

“In France we wear scarves. Everyone wears scarves.”

John couldn’t help it; he started laughing. Laf Smirked and Alex leaned far back into his seat, groaning and covering his face with his hands.

Alex spent the rest of the car ride discussing with Laf what fit into the category of cool American pop culture references and what did not, also which driving laws in America Laf should follow instead of those in France—all of them. John watched it all and fucked with them both, but mostly Alex.

Herc came out to meet them before they even parked the car.

“Sup my brothers in Christ?” he greeted them with open arms.

 

* * *

They started gaming as soon as they got inside, and started drinking less than an hour later. As an Irish Catholic, Herc insisted that his family had twice the obligation to alcohol. Nobody really knew exactly where he got enough booze to fill a kiddie pool. His older brother probably. His parents usually had prior commitments on the weekend so that didn’t cause any concern for the boys. Add that to a house far too big for the Mulligan family, and the weekends usually turned out pretty alright.

After losing track of time to videogames and an obscene amount of cheap beer and whisky later, the four of them burned some pizza roles on both attempts at cooking before calling it quits and ordering pizza. Stuffed full of pizza and drunk off their asses, they sprawled out over the floor.

“Alex nobody likes Eminem.”

“Duh. Nobody  _ likes _ Eminem. But we tolerate him. Why? Because he’s a pretty great rapper. You gotta admit.  He can spit. Like you don’t like him but he does a really good job even if nobody likes him.”

“Like you?”

Laf reached out to give Herc a high-five for that one. They both missed. They tried again. They missed again. Goddammit. Alex rapped quietly to himself while John poured everyone another round.

“Shots!” He hollered sloppily. All of his friends cheered. They sat up and scooted to join him on the floor.

“What are we drinking to?” asked Laf. Only his friends could understand the even more exaggerated accent he took on when he drank. The more he had, the less English he could speak.

“We don’t need a reason to drink. What’ve we been drinking to all night?” Alex slurred.

“Amen, man,” Herc bobbed his head in Alex’s direction. He meant to nod. But no biggie because everyone still got the message.

“To drinking illegally without reason!” John shouted louder than necessary, raising his shot glass in the air, spilling about half its contents.

The other three cried  out in agreement, clinking their glasses and downing the shot.

Laf swayed a bit, his face perfectly content in a drunken stupor. “Beaux rêves.” He laid down on his side and closed his eyes.

“The fuck, man, already?” Alex looked confused, and slightly hurt. He couldn’t understand this betrayal on part of his ami.

“Nah, he got the right idea.” Herc said. He grabbed the nearby pillow he’d used to try to beat the shit out of John with earlier and propped it under his head as he laid down, too, turning his back on John and Alex.

“Y’all are no fun,” Alex pouted. Neither of them stirred.

John let out a couple of short, amused laughs. “Shit, they’re out.”

“Yeah man… Weak AF.”

“S’okay.” John smirked and before Alex’s drunk as fuck brilliant brain could put together the pieces, John had crawled in his lap, straddling him and holding his face.

“Oh. Yeah this is much better.”

John kissed him and he gave in immediately. They both smelled and tasted of too much liquor and it showed in their sloppiness. But neither one minded as they kept kissing, their mouths and tongues roughly in the same space as their hands wandered all over each other.

Herc stared ahead at the wall, eyes blown wide open in horror. He regretted this plan. He regretted it immensely and would give anything to do it over. He wanted to throw up, and not from the alcohol. But he and Laf made an agreement, dammit. At least he didn’t suffer alone. He knew that not too far away, Laf had to go through the same torture. He wished he could see him.

Laf cursed and damned Herc to hell for coming up with this dumbass idea. They knew about John and Alex—why did they have to prove it. To themselves of all people. Why did they have to raise the stakes so that if one of them said anything he’d owe the other. He asked himself why over and over, trying to drone out the sounds of sharp breaths and whispered moans and whisky-drenched kisses.

Alex grinded up against John hard, creating as much friction between them as he could while still focusing on his mouth. But he didn’t have to worry about that for much longer as John moved to suck at his neck, one hand buried in Alex’s hair to hold him steady. Alex moaned, wishing he could feel him everywhere, he loved his touch so much. It drove him out of his fucking mind.

“Dude, I wanna suck you off,” he told John, a welcomed surprise to them both.

“Fuck yeah, man,” John responded, not conveniently crawling off Alex’s lap and getting on his back.

Herc wanted to cry—or have the house spontaneously catch on fire so they’d all have to get up and run. Either way. He would readily sacrifice everything in his home and more to get out of this situation.

“Just in case,” he heard John say. “We should probably, like, do it in the bathroom or something.

“Yeah, yeah, okay.”

God had smiled upon Hercules Mulligan that day. In this desolate world where everyone must suffer, the Lord had shown him the tiniest bit of hope and light.

As soon as he heard the bathroom door close after the couple had gotten up, he rose to get a look at Laf. He found him reaching for the whisky bottle and a couple of glasses still on the floor.

He poured a long draw in both. “I say we drink as much as we can before they get back so we can forget this ever happened.”

Herc could agree to that. He took the glass thankfully.

 

* * *

The next morning, something tried to get through the haze of Alex’s hung-over sleeping brain. He felt like some sort of disgusting lizard—or something else that would have a dry tongue and awful taste in its mouth that lived in a tank—that had to deal with an overexcited child banging on the class walls of its home.

“Alex? Aleeeeex?”

John’s voice. Oh, of course. The only thing that could get him to willingly wake up right now.

“John?”

“Good morning, Alex,” he said sweetly, far too bright for a Sunday morning hangover. He held out a cup of black coffee to him. “Still want to go to the museum today?”

Alex sat straight up, the room only spinning slightly, before gladly taking the coffee and giving John a kiss on the cheek, He hoped the current disgusting state of his mouth didn’t ruin the suaveness he hoped to achieve. Luckily for him, he could see just a hint of a blush against the all-too-adorable peppering of freckles and a small smile rising on John’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to note I do not condone underage drinking, which makes me a hypocrite. At least wait until college, kids. And be safe about your drinking. 
> 
> Also I don't condone doing the diddly in a church. That one I have not done. Nor do I intend to do.
> 
> Not sure what game the boys are playing here, but it's Certified Not Cool I can tell you that.


	3. Planning for the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory bridge chapter needed to build up to future events. Fluff with some smut thrown in. Like eating cotton candy with a jalapeño core.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things to address before this chapter. Feel free to skip this part. 
> 
> 1) I have no excuse for how long this took to write. I'm really sorry you guys. I know it took too long, but I can't put a deadline on any updates. I have a class schedule that's trying its best to kick my ass flat on the pavement and half a dozen other major items on my plate at the moment. Since the last update, I've gotten sick twice from not sleeping enough. This is my fun personal project, so no matter how badly I want to work on it, I know I have to put my other obligations first. 
> 
> 2) Guys. I put the phrase "meat wand" in one of the earlier chapters as a joke and both my beta and I missed it in edits, so it's still there. Like what the fuck. Y'all should chew me out for that shit. Drag me for the trash that I am.
> 
> 3) I got a comment about how there's another fic in this fandom by this same name. I don't know much about it but just by checking the tags on tumblr it seems like a thing that some people are really excited about making happen. The last thing I want is any fandom confusion, so does anyone have any thoughts on changing the name of the fic? 
> 
> 4) There's some name overlap of some of the characters, like how there are two Georges. I'm trying my best to differentiate between characters when this happens, but if anybody is confused, please let me know how I can clarify my writing. This goes for anything, really, not just the character names.

Less than half an hour later, John and Alex boarded a metro headed downtown as that sickeningly adorable teenage couple aboard a Sunday morning train car after the good people of the world had already left for church. They got off at the Smithsonian stop and walked up the steps to see the National Mall, a growingly familiar sight to Alex. John’s family moved to D.C. from Charleston before he even started high school when his father entered politics. Educated at private middle and high schools, he’d already seen every museum, monument, historical site, and any other sight of historical or touristic significance too many times to count, but he would go to each and every one as many times as possible to watch Alex’s reaction to seeing them for the first time. After they started dating, right before the start of the school year, they started visiting them all, starting with the postcard images of American pride along the Mall. They’d seen the war memorials, houses of government, presidential memorials, the tall monument that looked like a giant dick, the round memorial across the water that immortalized a giant dick, where the president lived, and the exteriors of almost a dozen museums to visit later. This day, they walked up the path to the first of those stops, the National Museum of American History.

Starting from the top floor and working their way down they saw everything. Alex took in every sight and exhibit he could with a childlike sense of wonder while John watched, smiling at the way Alex’s mouth hung open the tiniest bit when he read the display cards, because he had to read each and every one. He wanted to learn everything he could, from Revolutionary War uniform style to Puerto Rican-American cultural exchange to the evolution of American music. They walked through a couple hundred years of history, seeing it through art, war, technology, fashion, politics, and entertainment. Alexander most certainly did not cry at all. Not once. The two of them passed the day like that, their little gay hands clasped together. 

After the museum, they walked the Mall and got ice cream. Alex had notes, of course. He wanted to know John’s favorite parts and everything he learned. John mentioned that he liked seeing changing fashion over time. Alex shot him a confused look, to which he responded something along the lines of the importance of history through clothing and all the hard work people put into the fashion industry. They got to talking about media or something else and walked on and on, forgetting about homework and class the next day.

They had wandered from the Mall some time ago, strolling along the side streets of the city, close to the University, when John asked Alex what else he wanted to do that night. He started the question and before he had finished, Alex cut him off with an embracing kiss—in public, on the street, full tongue. His surprise, however, did not last long as he gave in, kissing him back candidly. In the back of his mind, past the Imax screen projection of his boyfriend’s name and rapidly firing pleasure neurons—surges of dopamine and oxytocin, he would have remembered from psych class if he could actually use his brain in the moment—flashed images of aggressively passionate kisses a la  _ The Notebook _ . It made him wonder of the two of them, which possessed more strength in order to pick up the other. He could do it. This love raised him up, Josh Groban style.

Several minutes later, an elderly woman interrupted them on the way into her apartment.

“It’s fine for kids to play games in the street, but tag is different from grab-ass!” she shouted at them with a knowing look. They pulled apart, faces flushed and panting for breath. She had a point. Only their hands remained together, and they held them looking at one another, trying to think of a way to calm down.

“Breathe?” John suggested.

“Breathe,” agreed Alex. They stared some more, making a point of breathing deeply and showing the other how they could breathe so impressively.

“And get back to school,” Alex added.

“Absolutely.”

They hopped back on the metro. John considered getting a cab before Alex practically dragged him down the stairs. The ride back and the walk from the station to the school took roughly half an hour, which gave them time to see whose roommates had left, since John had informed Alex that his upbringing simply could  _ not _ let him get down in a church on Sunday. They ended up stumbling into his room for a round of grabby making out and blowjobs, which left them messily half-dressed snuggled on Alex’s bed, content. But still, a question pressed itself in John’s mind.

“Hey Alex?”

“Yeah babe?”

He paused. They had to have this conversation sooner or later. If you can’t have the conversation you shouldn’t have it at all. But that minimal assurance still didn’t make it any more comfortable. He took in a quick, full breath before making himself do it.

“Do you think we’re gonna do it?” It came out rushed, and shakier than he planned, but he had said it, conquered the hardest part of the battle.

“Hm?” Alex quickly rolled over to find John looking at him. His expression didn’t necessarily show shock or concern, but definitely a feeling of off-guardedness. His brow furrowed in immediate concentration as his eyes widened with intrigue.

He’d already said it once. Did he really have to say it again, looking into his eyes now. “Are we going to do it?” At least his voice had a better foundation this time.

It brought him relief to see Alex’s face soften some, sure of what he’d heard this time. “ _ It _ ?” He seemed cautious around the word, hesitant—not afraid, just the slightest bit naïve. Finally a level playing field…on which neither of them had any experience.

But did he really have to spell it out. “You know… It.”  Smooth as sandpaper.

“You mean…”

“Sex.” Whoomp there it is. Come on and slam.

John wanted to die in the following seconds while Alex formulated a response, or kill him, what with that face he made when trying to register something that made him look like a fuckboy who couldn’t understand why someone didn’t jump his bones at a catcall. Either way, ideally, one of them would not survive this.

“Now?” he finally came up with.

“Wait, what? No!”

“Okay, okay. I just wasn’t sure what you meant.”

“I mean at some point.”

“Well… I’d like to.” The young hesitance thickened in Alex’s voice once more, just under his simplistic honesty.

Shit. What to say to that. “Um. I’d like to, too.” He thought he should feel embarrassed looking straight ahead into Alex’s eyes at a time like this, but rather John found it comforting. “But not right now,” he hastily added.

“Not right now,” Alex agreed. “But, I mean, I have thought about it.”

“Me too.”

“And I’ve been doing lots of reading online?” he phrased it like a question, not sure if John would laugh at him or not.

“Me too.” Thank God.

“And I have condoms?”

“Me too.”

“And lube?”

“Me too.”

Wow.

“So…” John thought aloud, not exactly knowing what to say, “we’ve got what we need.”

“Right.”

“And we both want to. We both want to, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“So…” and he’d thought that starting the conversation felt awkward.

“Uh, do you want to like, set a date or something?”

“What?”

“Like maybe plan it out or something?” Alex sounded downright uncomfortable at this point; his voice rose and nearly cracked when he asked, all sexy-like.

“No.”

“Oh. Okay.”

A moment passed, embodying one of the weirdest silences imaginable.

“But now we know,” John tried.

“Yeah,” Alex agreed.

“So when it’s time…”

“We’ll be ready.” Boom. On the same page. Synced the way great boyfriends should.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad we talked about it. It’s important to talk about it, right?” John asked.

“Oh yeah. For sure.”

“Good.”

Neither of them could think of anything else to add. So Alex moved forward to kiss John on the forehead, which didn’t make things more pleasant until he kept kissing, moving on to place sweet, gentle kisses between his eyes and on his nose, before kissing him on the lips. After a few chaste smooches, John pulled away, smiling, and sat up.

“I have homework to do.”

Alex turned over, burying his face in a pillow and groaned, suddenly remembering responsibility to something other than romance. “Shit.” John found it adorable.  

John had already pulled his pants back on when Alex sat up to do the same. He’d just gotten on his underwear when John had his shirt over his head and Aaron opened the door to the room.

He stood in the doorway, not saying anything, not needing to say anything, seemingly impassive but actually just exhausted.

Both John and Alex started sputtering words and fragments of sentences, saying something along the lines of “totally normal” or “we weren’t sucking each other’s dicks.”

Aaron walked away, closing the door.

“Not his best timing, but it could have been a hell of a lot worse.”

* * *

 

“We have to tell you something.” Alex’s face carried the gravest solemnity.

“You’re dating.”

“You’re together.”

“Vous baisez.”

John tilted his head back, covering his face with his hands as Alex stared at their three friends with his mouth hanging open in astonishment. Nobody ever got a step ahead of Alexander Hamilton.

“The fuck?” he demanded.

“We know,” Herc told them, already spent on the topic.

“It is  _ extremely _ obvious,” said Laf.

“I literally walked in on you in bed putting your clothes back on earlier today.”

John leaned forward, still keeping his face covered as he propped his elbows on the table to prop up his head. Alex stared at the other three in turn.

“Well jeez, you could at least pretend to be surprised.”

“Literally everyone knows.”

“I am going to be hungover all week from all I drunk last night and the only thing I can remember is that I did it because of the two of you.”

“Drank, Laf,” Herc let him know. “Regular verb.”

“Putain de merde,” he hung his head and whispered to himself.

“Do you all hang out and drink together?” Aaron looked offended.  

Herc gave him a look reminiscent of Obama’s when asked about his nuclear plans against Russia. “Not the issue right now.”

“So you mean that none of you even doubted it?” Alex asked, still incredulous to the whole thing.

John finally said something, taking his hands from his face and putting one on Alex’s shoulder. “Dude, it’s okay.”

“You call your boyfriend dude?” Aaron asked skeptically.

“Maybe if you weren’t so judgmental we’d invite you to hang out with us,” John shot back.

“Daaaaaaamn!” both Laf and Herc chorused in response. Alex turned towards John and unconsciously licked his lips. John looked back at him sultrily.

Herc called them on it. “See, that’s the shit that’s not cool.”

They both turned back to the others. “Huh?”

“You’re dating. That’s cool. Whatever. We’re happy for you. Just keep the sex shit to yourselves.”

John shrugged half-heartedly, eyes off to the side. Alex started stammering. The rest all nodded back at them.

“Just because you are dating does not mean that we all want to be included,” voiced Laf.

“You don’t have to share all the couple-y stuff,” added Herc.

“And for Christ’s sake,” Aaron spoke up, “if you’re going to hook up in our room, send out a text or something.” Herc nodded frantically in agreement, staring pointedly at John.

John and Alex looked at them and then at each other in agreement.

“Any more rules?” Alex inquired in all seriousness.

John rolled his eyes slightly and nudged him. “Like I said, it’s cool.”

“Cool,” everyone agreed.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” Herc paused to look around the table, “Onto more seriousness business.”

“What do you mean by that?” Aaron said.

“Like Laf said, he and I both woke up with hangovers like a motherfucker.” Nobody asked what kind of hangovers motherfuckers normally had as he exchanged glances with Laf. “And we agreed that if we’re gonna drink like that, then we need better company.”

“Thanks guys,” Alex remarked.

“I wouldn’t know,” quipped Aaron.  

Herc cut to the chase. “My parents are gone gone this weekend, so I’m having a party.”

“Like a real party?” John almost sounded confused.

“And you’re actually inviting people?”

“Yes. Yes,” he sighed both John and Aaron in turn. “So invite anyone you want, especially girls.”

“We know so many of those,” stated Alex sarcastically. “After all, I only go to an all boy’s school. I didn’t grow up here. I have a boyfriend.”

John smiled at him, just for him. He’d never called him that before in front of anyone else. Alex smiled back knowingly.

Laf looked at the other two. “I liked it better when we didn’t know.”

* * *

 

A few days later, a knock came at Alex’s door. Nobody ever knocked. His friends didn’t care about manners. He looked at Aaron, who didn’t look up from his laptop.

“Ten bucks you’re in trouble,” he said to Alex.

“Fucking rude.”

Alex opened the door to find their RA, George Washington, with his hand raised and curled into a fist to knock again. Alex mistook his cool confidence for an invitation and raised his own hand, going in for a fist bump. George looked perplexed to say in the least.

“Heeeeey, man,” Alex drew out after the awkward exchange. George nodded at him.

“Hey.”

“So, uh, is everything alright?” George had never made a visit to their room before, announced or not.

George seemed to relax, like falling at ease. “Oh, yeah. Everything’s cool. Do you mind if I come in?” He made a point of looking at both Alex and Aaron.

“Uuhh...” the two roommates exchanged glances and shrugs. “Sure thing.” Alex stepped back so he could come into the room. George took one of the chairs from their desks and sat in it, so Alex sat on the edge of his.

“So guys, just wanted to check in how you’re doing. We’re a bit along this semester and as your R.A. it’s important to me to know how you’re getting along.”

Alex and Aaron looked at each other again, just this side of dumbfounded.

“I’m alright. Doing well. No complaints. Alex, you?”

“I’m doing good. Shit. Doing well. Shit, did I say shit? Fuck!” For once in his life, Alex shut his mouth before anything else could come spilling out before filtering through his brain. To his relief, George smiled, cracking a laugh.

“It’s okay. You can relax. I’m not going to get onto you for anything.” Alex gulped in thankfulness. “Anyway, I’m coming by because the school thinks it’s a good idea for seniors to talk to juniors early on about what you want to do after you graduate.”

“Ooohhh…” Alex’s bumbling nerves visibly melted away from his face. If Aaron felt anything, he didn’t show it. Since he didn’t seem likely to speak first, Alex went on. “To be honest, I haven’t given it a lot of thought.”

George turned him, seeming genuinely interested, but not going to talk next.

“I mean, I’m still glad to be here right now. When you grow up in foster homes, you don’t think too much about what’s next, especially compared to what’s going on in the present.”

“Well have you thought at all about what you’d like to do for a living?” George had an assuring tone to him.

Alex had to think about it. “Uh, well. I like to do a lot now. I like writing for the paper, but I don’t know if I could do  _ just _ that, you know?”

“And why not?” George interjected.

Alex considered it. “There’s not enough action, if that makes sense. I like speech, but that’s not a career. Living in DC has really made me aware of all a lot of political issues that are important to me. Maybe politics?”

George’s eyebrows raised, almost impressed. “That’s not something most people would say. I know you’re very active already, and you’re good at pursuing your ambitions.”

Alex blinked in response, awed by this respect from someone he’d always admired, but who he thought didn’t even recognize him.

“I want to be a lawyer,” Aaron butted in, characteristically ruining the moment. “I’m going to join the Army after high school, get my undergrad at Princeton, and then get a law degree.”

“The Army?”

“Yeah. I’ve always wanted to and I think it’ll be good for me.”

“And why Princeton?”

“Family tradition,” Aaron obviously thought he need not elaborate any more.

“I see. So have you thought out how you’re going to manage joining the military and studying Ivy League?”

“I’m fine waiting until after my service to earn my degree.”

“Military life can be the most unpredictable, usually.”

“I’ll see what happens.” Alex knew this tone. It meant Aaron had a plan and nobody else’s opinion mattered to him. If God Himself wanted to change his course, Aaron would face Him and walk backwards into Hell, like Dril.

“And you know Princeton doesn’t have a law program, right?” Alex felt uncomfortable, watching George grill him like this.

“Yes,” he stated simply.

“So do you know where you’d like to get your law degree.”

“Not yet.”

George contemplated this before nodding at Aaron, somewhat curtly. Aaron nodded back. Just as something prophetic and profound and unsaid would have started to pass between, George turned back to Alex.

“You should come talk to me sometime, Alex. I’d be more than glad to help you think things over. And I’m not just saying that because I’m supposed to be a sort of informal advisor or anything. I think we’d get along well.”

“Well thank you,” Alex responded, a little humbled.

“And if there’s anything else you need, let me know,” George told him, still only talking to him.

“Of course.”

George smiled, nodded once more at the both of them, and left. He sure did like nodding.

Alex turned to Aaron. “I never knew you wanted to join the Army.”

“I do,” he replied. Alex could never get any personal information out of him beyond the basics, and it annoyed the hell out of him. He believed that it made Aaron feel smug, which only made it more annoying. That motherfucker.

“You know, it’s not a bad idea…” Alex’s mind had already started to wander down this new rabbit hole.

“Hold up, no. You can’t just take my idea like that.”

“I’m not taking your idea.” Alex dramatically rolled his eyes.

“You were thinking about it.”

“You can’t ‘take’ somebody’s plan.”

“But you were thinking about it.”

* * *

 

John sent Alex a text shortly after a similar experience.

J: So Adams was just here to talk to me about my future. Don’t know which was worse, him trying to make jokes or him pretending to care.

A: Dear God, I’m sorry.

A: George was here for the same thing like ten minutes ago.

J: Prick George?

A: No. Cool George. Sexy George.

J: Should I be jealous?

A: Maybe a little bit.

J: So what’d he say to you?

A: He didn’t say much. He asked and let us talk. Or he let me talk, I guess.

J: And what did you say?

A: That I don’t really know. And I don’t. I haven’t thought too much about it, tbh.

J: Do you know what you want to do?

A: Not really. I said maybe go into politics.

J: Might as well jump into the river in December. Warmer water.

A: Thanks for the encouragement.

J: You’re welcome, babe.

A: What’d you tell tiny, fat mf John?

J: I want to go into an an environmental program. But not really do any science. Make sense?

A: Considering my approximate knowledge of science is zero, yes.

J: Alex you’re in chem.

A: never said I was doing well in it.

J: What’s your grade in it rn?

A: Anyway, what are you up to?

J: Supposed to be writing an English essay.

A: About what?

J: Lord of the flies. 

A: Violence is bad. But man is violent. So man is bad. Even men-in-training. Christ figure. There’s your essay.

J: Everyone knows what kind of grades you get in English. I’d hate to see your chem homework.

A: Now that you have that done do you wanna come over and hang out ;)? 

J: Hmmm…

A: My roommate’s not home.

J: Oh?

A: That’s a lie. He totally is.

J: You’re the best, babe.

A: I know. That’s why you keep me around.

J: That and your essay advice.

A: That’s all?

J: At the moment.

A: xoxoxo ;-*

J: Gross.

Alex smirked down at his phone screen. Before he could type out his next message, a text came in from Herc.

H: for the love of god stop this we both have homework to do and he keeps giggling at his phone like a goddamn middle school girl

Alex lost it laughing at that.

* * *

 

At the same time, Laf received a SnapChat from Herc. He could see Herc’s “done with this shit” eyes under his beanie at the bottom of the screen while John sat on his bed, smiling ridiculously at his phone in the background. “Get me out of here,” it read.

In response, Laf sent him back a snap of his own roommate talking to his dog back in England over Skype. “Trade you  (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡┻━┻ ” he typed over the picture.

* * *

 

The day after that, Thomas had gotten on Alex’s nerves, and he didn’t have to say anything for John to know that. He had fumes practically steaming out of his ears when John went to meet him after debate practice. After seeing that and staying up too late the night before writing his paper because he’d procrastinated by hanging out with Alex, John figured they could both use some stress relief, which led to him sitting in his boyfriend’s lap in his bed, exchanging hickeys and extortionate grinding while Herc went to soccer practice.

John worked at taking off both of their shirts. His came off easily, but Alex squirmed too much for him to get a good hold of all of the buttons. Eventually, Alex just leaned back and laid down to distract him, and it worked as John immediately adjusted to straddle his hips. He made sure to move against Alex  _ hard _ . When he pressed against him just right, Alex let out a downright whine, rutting fiercely against John’s thigh. He brought his hands to his waist and pressed up into the spread of his legs as much as he could, neither of them having even taken off their pants yet.

As much as John loved the firm hold of Alex’s dick against his ass, he kept his eyes open to watch his desperate faces beneath him. He looked so, so eager, with his eyes closed and mouth hanging open indulgently and his brows together in determination. John rocked against his frantic thrusts, savoring the rush of it all.

A few minutes more had Alex’s wild thrusting come to a halt as his body stilled except for his stuttering hips as he came in his pants. He laid down flat beneath John, staring at him in bewilderment, breathing heavily.

“Damn.” On John’s face above him, he saw a smug smile. He had reason to feel cocksure—either that reaction meant that Alex’s coming in his pants embarrassed or that he’d just now realized how freaking awesome that had actually felt without even getting naked. He’d only ever rutted up against a pillow, a poor substitute for an enthusiastic, hot-blooded boyfriend willing to put up with all his shit.

“Good?” John couldn’t think of anything else to say. Thankfully, Alex didn’t have the competence to process anything much longer than a couple of syllables at the moment.

“Hell yeah.”

John kept his smile, bending over to give Alex a surprisingly tender and sickeningly sweet kiss on the forehead before reaching over to his nightstand to grab some tissues. Even in the afterglow of a good orgasm, Alex had still just pulled the ultimate first class act of filling the front of his pants with cum. He wiped away what he could and prayed that he could wash out any potential stain, but he figured God wouldn’t answer a prayer from a horny teenage boy about removing premarital gay sex stains from his pants.

“Um, I’m gonna have to borrow a pair of your pants to wear back to my room,” he told John, who nodded back at him.

“Yeah, of course.”

Alex went ahead and peeled off his now-soiled pants and underwear in one go, sitting on John’s bed in only his uniform button-up, still hanging on by the bottom two buttons remaining closed. He turned to John.

“How do you want to get off?”

John blinked. “Oh. Uh, didn’t really think about it. What do you want to do to me?”

Another pang of arousal struck Alex at that question. Goddamn.

“Actually…” he started, an idea forming in his mind, “Do you think we could try something new?”

John tilted his head contemplatively. “Depends what it is.”

“I want to finger you,” Alex stated plainly, locking eyes with John intently. John thought he probably meant to come across as hot, but it honestly seemed a little creepy.

“Oh.” Not what he’d expected, although in all honesty he hadn’t known what to expect.

As he pondered the suggestion, Alex grew concerned. “Is that okay?”

“I… I don’t really know.” Alex watched him mulling over the idea.

“John, it’s fine. If you don’t want to, we won’t. It’s as simple as that. We won’t do anything you don’t want to do.” He wanted to make this point as clear as possible.

“I know,” John looked back at him reassuringly. “It’s not that I don’t  _ want _ to, it’s just that… I don’t know if it’s a good idea.” His face scrunched up doubtfully at the last part of that sentence.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, uh, I’ve never done it before.”

“ _ Oh _ .”

“And it’s something that I want to do, for sure. But…” he paused, carefully picking out the phrasing of his next words “I think I’d like to try it on my own first. Just so, you know, I know what to expect when I do it with somebody else.” He didn’t want to voice the pressing issue here, hoping Alex would catch on.

He figured he must have by his understanding nod of the head. “Okay. Yeah.” They looked at one another with an unspoken agreement between the two of them. Or maybe they had just spoken it. Who knows. It all felt really weird, but somehow in a polite way, like trying to hold the door open for a stranger who is neither close enough to the door to make someone else wait for them, nor far enough away to close the door.

“You need to go,” he announced decisively to Alex.

Alex’s eyes widened in a fascinated, just a little bit creepy, panic. “You’re gonna do it  _ now _ ?”

“Why not now?”

“Um,” how to put this into words. “I’m not sure how to sit somewhere on my own knowing that you’re doing that.”

John rolled his eyes, pushing away a smile. “Figure it out.”

Alex continued to stare at him just a touch longer, on the edge of pouting.

“I’m not going to do it until you leave. And if you don’t leave right now I won’t give you an update afterwards.”

“What?” This completely floored Alex, visibly swaying with conviction. Too easy.

“You heard me.”

Alex grabbed John’s face for a clumsy kiss, apparently trying to push his adoration down John’s throat. John almost gagged. Alex pulled away beaming. He hastily pulled on John’s borrowed pants and his uniform jacket. “You have everything you need, right?”

“Jesus Christ, Alex, at least put on a shirt. And yes, I have everything.”

Alex ignored him. “And you know to start off small, right? Just a pinky.”

John groaned in embarrassed exasperation. “God, yes. Get out.”

“I just want to make sure you’re being safe!” Alex still had that stupid grin, for fuck’s sake. John covered his face in a lame attempt to hide his quickly flushing cheeks.

“Okay, okay! I’ll go.” He placed a quick kiss to John’s hairline before backing out of the room.

“At least take your goddamn shoes!” John cried at him, throwing his shoes in the direction of the door. Alex laughed wildly as he grabbed them and took off down the hall. The sight of him half dressed, erratically giggling down the hallway carrying his own shoes made an odd sight, even for someone with a reputation of eccentricity that carried over to both Virginia and Delaware.

John shook his head after him. He got up to move the back of his chair under the doorknob. He didn’t expect anybody to come into his room, but still. He took a deep breath before turning back to his bed. He reached into the desk drawer next to him and found two tie boxes stacked on top of each other in the back, the one on top empty. He grabbed the second one and opened it to reveal a small, colorful assortment of condoms and lubricants. Buying them had brought him a sense of thrill that he felt stupid for having, which resurfaced now. He still felt dumb, getting all worked up without even doing anything. His lack of experience came harshly to light in moments like this--but he could only get over that by practice.

He almost forgot to lay out a towel. He had to get back up and grab one from the closet. John had this all planned out. He’d done his homework, like any good honors student, except he would never get a grade for butt stuff. Well, maybe from Alex. He could see Alex writing a whole goddamn essay on the subject in MLA format, in-text citations included. Anyway, he wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t have  _ anything _ unpleasant happening, without going into detail, so he spread out a clean beach towel on his bed. Just as felt ready to start, he realized he forgot something else critically important, so he made a quick visit to the bathroom to make sure he cleaned himself up, awkwardly walking around the halls half-hard still.

Okay, he could do this. He sat back on his bed, door propped in place of a lock, towel spread, tie-turned-sex box at arm’s reach. He started by stroking himself, just like any other time he’d jack off. So far so good, but nothing new there. He thought about Alex doing this to him—Alex sucking him off, Alex getting him ready, Alex fucking him.  _ Fuck _ . Fuck, fuck, fuck. He’d have to stop acting like some twelve-year-old who’d never jerked it before. It never took long to rub one out, but he realized that he had to make this last. At least he didn’t have to work anymore to get fully turned on. He kept working his dick, though, just for good measure.

A little bit longer, and he felt ready to move on, to take the plunge, to march on, to boldly go where no man had gone before. Oh God why did he do this to himself. He slowed down the hand on his dick while he reached under himself. He placed a finger against his entrance, waiting to feel something he’d only ever read about or heard described. He waited patiently, just barely pressing there, until he discovered the confusing sensation of moving involuntarily on the inside, and feeling the same movement on the outside with his finger. But he’d done it. He’d made himself pucker, which he did  _ not _ want to think about.

Next, he reached for a small bottle of water-based lube. Of course opening it required two hands and of course it had one of those protective seals. But popping the proverbial cherry of that seal reminded John of opening a can of worms, because it put him in quite the sticky situation, only not sticky at all, but slicker than anything he’d ever felt before. Dear Lord, he couldn’t recall  _ ever _ touching anything nearly as slippery. Oh boy. It came out way too fast, and in trying to stop it, John only managed to get it all over his fingers, which made it nearly impossible to grab onto the bottle. None of the advice he’d read online warned him about this. Only one thought kept him going: the prostate must contain fucking  _ magic _ for anybody to put up with this fuckery.

He managed to maneuver most of the lube on his right hand to his little finger. Then he ran into his next conundrum. He’d have to use one hand to jerk himself, and one to penetrate, but he couldn’t decide which hand to assign to which job. He could use his dominant right hand to stroke, which he knew would feel good, but risk putting his lesser-experienced hand into new territory. Or he could use his more confident right hand to penetrate, but that would result in a sub-par hand on his dick. This issue gave him serious hesitation, until he figured fuck it because he’d already gotten his right pinky all slippery.

He steadied himself, and pushed the tiniest tip of his littlest finger inside. He had expected the worst—flashing red lights as everything went into shut down mode, but nothing quite so dramatic happened. He just had a tiny little nubbin’ up his ass. He wiggled that nub slowly, pushing in only when he felt ready. Honestly, it didn’t hurt. He’d done everything to make sure to take it gently, so he didn’t experience the sweet, burning stretch of unexpected penetration as his lover mercilessly but affectionately fed him more. It almost tickled. He let out a bit of a laugh, mostly relieved to find no great looming threat or danger. It didn’t feel spectacular, but he didn’t feel the need to stop by any means, and curiosity kept him going.

In his concentration, he’d forgotten to keep stroking. He picked it up again, pacing himself with the wiggles of his hand. And then—oh.

_ Oh _ . 

He’d found that magical bundle of nerves. He could barely reach it, just bobbing against the bottom and straining to take in more of his short finger. It felt better and better every time he bopped against it, until he found himself bouncing on his own hand, trying to reach deeper than he could even go, rubbing his dick fiercely. Once he’d grasped ahold of his situation, his mind expanded back to Alex. He thought about him waiting in his own dorm, torturously excited. John realized that he’d put his boyfriend in that position, that he had this wicked pull over him. It sent a shudder through his whole body and caused his stomach to tighten for the briefest of moments before he came.

Back in his dorm, Alex waited on pins and needles, failing to get any homework done. This had taken way too long. He tried not to think that anything had gone wrong. He tried not to come up with impossible situations of things that  _ could _ have gone wrong. Tuned in to his phone every few seconds, he saw it light up before the notification sounded off.

J: My only regret is that I haven’t tried this earlier. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On tumblr still at adotnon. Gonna try to start actually using that account for all my hamiltrash and writing posts. 
> 
> If you leave comments/kudos, you get bonus points on your grade in butt stuff.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you know that the Catholic church used to tell people that if they donated to the church that more souls would be allowed to pass from Purgatory onto Heaven? It was a moneymaking scam. That said, leave a kudos and/or comment to encourage more updates! Thanks for reading!! 
> 
> I'm on tumblr at adotnon.tumblr.com


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